Podcasts about lookee

01 - Never going home (Hermann extended mix) KUNGS 02 - Queen (extended mix) JACK WINS 03 - Good vibration (Lookee remix) STEFANE 04 - In my arms (extended mix) DISCO PURPLE MACHINE 05 - Renegade master (original acapella 1998) WILDCHILD 06 - Disco stepper (original mix) HOUSE OF PRAYERS 07- Gotta have you MARK BROOM, RIVA STARR & STAR B 08 - Turn around (hey what's wrong with you)(Calvo extended remix) PHATS & SMALL 09 - Sing it (extended mix) PICKLE 10 - Get stupid CLOONEE 11 - Never let me down GORGON CITY Feat. HAYLEY MAY 12 - Drop the pressure (Sonny Fodera remix) CLAPTONE & MYLO 13 - All of me (Kevin McKay extended remix) OUR ANTHEM 14 - Wanna show you (extended mix) LOW STEPPA Feat. REIGNS 15 - Feel the grovee (12 inch clean) CARTOUCHE 16 - If you wanna (extended mix) KODY 17 - Closer (extended mix) FLASHMOB 18 - Time machine (MK remix) ALICIA KEYS 19 - I feel it (original mix) LEFTWING : KODY 20 - Nothing else when I think of you (Qubiko extended remix) JOE STONE 21 - Joys (Offaiah club mix) ROBERTO SURACE 22 - Can't explain (extended mix) TOMMY FARROW 23 - Off my mind (extended mix) MANYFEW & VOOST 24 - Finally ready (David Penn extended remix) THE SHAPESHIFTERS Feat. BILLY PORTER 25 - Heard it all before (Low Steppa's Warehouse mix) LOW STEPPA 26 - Keep on jumping WHITE CHOCOLATE

Lookee lookee, it's been another two whole years of Credit:0! Dangerous driving, free beer, the most awkward episode of Who Wants to be a Millionaire and not one, but TWO wiping debates! Strap in for this one. Hosts: Tweed (⁠https://www.twitch.tv/tweedgames/⁠) Luke (⁠www.youtube.com/channel/UCRZn-LaWJ_6yE_Oj-hWVcjA⁠) Darel (⁠www.instagram.com/travelingmanjo⁠) Drew (⁠www.twitter.com/AfterschoolDrew⁠) Leslie (⁠www.twitter.com/wilkinslie⁠) Wanna keep up with us? Hit us up on Twitter: ⁠twitter.com/AfterschoolArc8⁠ and Instagram: ⁠www.instagram.com/afterschoolarcade⁠ and on YouTube: ⁠www.youtube.com/channel/UCjcIgbiixgg6EVWs7LY7-lQ⁠ oh god and on Facebook: ⁠www.facebook.com/AfterschoolArcade

The apparition of a file of soldiers ringing down the but-ends of their loaded muskets on our doorstep, caused the dinner party to rise from table in confusion, and caused Mrs. Joe re-entering the kitchen empty-handed, to stop short and stare, in her wondering lament of “Gracious goodness gracious me, what's gone⁠—with the⁠—pie!”The sergeant and I were in the kitchen when Mrs. Joe stood staring; at which crisis I partially recovered the use of my senses. It was the sergeant who had spoken to me, and he was now looking round at the company, with his handcuffs invitingly extended towards them in his right hand, and his left on my shoulder.“Excuse me, ladies and gentleman,” said the sergeant, “but as I have mentioned at the door to this smart young shaver,” (which he hadn't), “I am on a chase in the name of the king, and I want the blacksmith.”“And pray what might you want with him?” retorted my sister, quick to resent his being wanted at all.“Missis,” returned the gallant sergeant, “speaking for myself, I should reply, the honor and pleasure of his fine wife's acquaintance; speaking for the king, I answer, a little job done.”This was received as rather neat in the sergeant; insomuch that Mr. Pumblechook cried audibly, “Good again!”“You see, blacksmith,” said the sergeant, who had by this time picked out Joe with his eye, “we have had an accident with these, and I find the lock of one of 'em goes wrong, and the coupling don't act pretty. As they are wanted for immediate service, will you throw your eye over them?”Joe threw his eye over them, and pronounced that the job would necessitate the lighting of his forge fire, and would take nearer two hours than one. “Will it? Then will you set about it at once, blacksmith?” said the offhand sergeant, “as it's on his Majesty's service. And if my men can bear a hand anywhere, they'll make themselves useful.” With that, he called to his men, who came trooping into the kitchen one after another, and piled their arms in a corner. And then they stood about, as soldiers do; now, with their hands loosely clasped before them; now, resting a knee or a shoulder; now, easing a belt or a pouch; now, opening the door to spit stiffly over their high stocks, out into the yard.All these things I saw without then knowing that I saw them, for I was in an agony of apprehension. But beginning to perceive that the handcuffs were not for me, and that the military had so far got the better of the pie as to put it in the background, I collected a little more of my scattered wits.“Would you give me the time?” said the sergeant, addressing himself to Mr. Pumblechook, as to a man whose appreciative powers justified the inference that he was equal to the time.“It's just gone half past two.”“That's not so bad,” said the sergeant, reflecting; “even if I was forced to halt here nigh two hours, that'll do. How far might you call yourselves from the marshes, hereabouts? Not above a mile, I reckon?”“Just a mile,” said Mrs. Joe.“That'll do. We begin to close in upon 'em about dusk. A little before dusk, my orders are. That'll do.”“Convicts, sergeant?” asked Mr. Wopsle, in a matter-of-course way.“Ay!” returned the sergeant, “two. They're pretty well known to be out on the marshes still, and they won't try to get clear of 'em before dusk. Anybody here seen anything of any such game?”Everybody, myself excepted, said no, with confidence. Nobody thought of me.“Well!” said the sergeant, “they'll find themselves trapped in a circle, I expect, sooner than they count on. Now, blacksmith! If you're ready, his Majesty the King is.”Joe had got his coat and waistcoat and cravat off, and his leather apron on, and passed into the forge. One of the soldiers opened its wooden windows, another lighted the fire, another turned to at the bellows, the rest stood round the blaze, which was soon roaring. Then Joe began to hammer and clink, hammer and clink, and we all looked on.The interest of the impending pursuit not only absorbed the general attention, but even made my sister liberal. She drew a pitcher of beer from the cask for the soldiers, and invited the sergeant to take a glass of brandy. But Mr. Pumblechook said, sharply, “Give him wine, Mum. I'll engage there's no tar in that:” so, the sergeant thanked him and said that as he preferred his drink without tar, he would take wine, if it was equally convenient. When it was given him, he drank his Majesty's health and compliments of the season, and took it all at a mouthful and smacked his lips.“Good stuff, eh, sergeant?” said Mr. Pumblechook.“I'll tell you something,” returned the sergeant; “I suspect that stuff's of your providing.”Mr. Pumblechook, with a fat sort of laugh, said, “Ay, ay? Why?”“Because,” returned the sergeant, clapping him on the shoulder, “you're a man that knows what's what.”“D'ye think so?” said Mr. Pumblechook, with his former laugh. “Have another glass!”“With you. Hob and nob,” returned the sergeant. “The top of mine to the foot of yours⁠—the foot of yours to the top of mine⁠—Ring once, ring twice⁠—the best tune on the musical glasses! Your health. May you live a thousand years, and never be a worse judge of the right sort than you are at the present moment of your life!”The sergeant tossed off his glass again and seemed quite ready for another glass. I noticed that Mr. Pumblechook in his hospitality appeared to forget that he had made a present of the wine, but took the bottle from Mrs. Joe and had all the credit of handing it about in a gush of joviality. Even I got some. And he was so very free of the wine that he even called for the other bottle, and handed that about with the same liberality, when the first was gone.As I watched them while they all stood clustering about the forge, enjoying themselves so much, I thought what terrible good sauce for a dinner my fugitive friend on the marshes was. They had not enjoyed themselves a quarter so much, before the entertainment was brightened with the excitement he furnished. And now, when they were all in lively anticipation of “the two villains” being taken, and when the bellows seemed to roar for the fugitives, the fire to flare for them, the smoke to hurry away in pursuit of them, Joe to hammer and clink for them, and all the murky shadows on the wall to shake at them in menace as the blaze rose and sank, and the red-hot sparks dropped and died, the pale afternoon outside almost seemed in my pitying young fancy to have turned pale on their account, poor wretches.At last, Joe's job was done, and the ringing and roaring stopped. As Joe got on his coat, he mustered courage to propose that some of us should go down with the soldiers and see what came of the hunt. Mr. Pumblechook and Mr. Hubble declined, on the plea of a pipe and ladies' society; but Mr. Wopsle said he would go, if Joe would. Joe said he was agreeable, and would take me, if Mrs. Joe approved. We never should have got leave to go, I am sure, but for Mrs. Joe's curiosity to know all about it and how it ended. As it was, she merely stipulated, “If you bring the boy back with his head blown to bits by a musket, don't look to me to put it together again.”The sergeant took a polite leave of the ladies, and parted from Mr. Pumblechook as from a comrade; though I doubt if he were quite as fully sensible of that gentleman's merits under arid conditions, as when something moist was going. His men resumed their muskets and fell in. Mr. Wopsle, Joe, and I, received strict charge to keep in the rear, and to speak no word after we reached the marshes. When we were all out in the raw air and were steadily moving towards our business, I treasonably whispered to Joe, “I hope, Joe, we shan't find them,” and Joe whispered to me, “I'd give a shilling if they had cut and run, Pip.”We were joined by no stragglers from the village, for the weather was cold and threatening, the way dreary, the footing bad, darkness coming on, and the people had good fires indoors and were keeping the day. A few faces hurried to glowing windows and looked after us, but none came out. We passed the finger-post, and held straight on to the churchyard. There we were stopped a few minutes by a signal from the sergeant's hand, while two or three of his men dispersed themselves among the graves, and also examined the porch. They came in again without finding anything, and then we struck out on the open marshes, through the gate at the side of the churchyard. A bitter sleet came rattling against us here on the east wind, and Joe took me on his back.Now that we were out upon the dismal wilderness where they little thought I had been within eight or nine hours and had seen both men hiding, I considered for the first time, with great dread, if we should come upon them, would my particular convict suppose that it was I who had brought the soldiers there? He had asked me if I was a deceiving imp, and he had said I should be a fierce young hound if I joined the hunt against him. Would he believe that I was both imp and hound in treacherous earnest, and had betrayed him?It was of no use asking myself this question now. There I was, on Joe's back, and there was Joe beneath me, charging at the ditches like a hunter, and stimulating Mr. Wopsle not to tumble on his Roman nose, and to keep up with us. The soldiers were in front of us, extending into a pretty wide line with an interval between man and man. We were taking the course I had begun with, and from which I had diverged in the mist. Either the mist was not out again yet, or the wind had dispelled it. Under the low red glare of sunset, the beacon, and the gibbet, and the mound of the battery, and the opposite shore of the river, were plain, though all of a watery lead color.With my heart thumping like a blacksmith at Joe's broad shoulder, I looked all about for any sign of the convicts. I could see none, I could hear none. Mr. Wopsle had greatly alarmed me more than once, by his blowing and hard breathing; but I knew the sounds by this time, and could dissociate them from the object of pursuit. I got a dreadful start, when I thought I heard the file still going; but it was only a sheep-bell. The sheep stopped in their eating and looked timidly at us; and the cattle, their heads turned from the wind and sleet, stared angrily as if they held us responsible for both annoyances; but, except these things, and the shudder of the dying day in every blade of grass, there was no break in the bleak stillness of the marshes.The soldiers were moving on in the direction of the old battery, and we were moving on a little way behind them, when, all of a sudden, we all stopped. For there had reached us on the wings of the wind and rain, a long shout. It was repeated. It was at a distance towards the east, but it was long and loud. Nay, there seemed to be two or more shouts raised together⁠—if one might judge from a confusion in the sound.To this effect the sergeant and the nearest men were speaking under their breath, when Joe and I came up. After another moment's listening, Joe (who was a good judge) agreed, and Mr. Wopsle (who was a bad judge) agreed. The sergeant, a decisive man, ordered that the sound should not be answered, but that the course should be changed, and that his men should make towards it “at the double.” So we slanted to the right (where the east was), and Joe pounded away so wonderfully, that I had to hold on tight to keep my seat.It was a run indeed now, and what Joe called, in the only two words he spoke all the time, “a winder.” Down banks and up banks, and over gates, and splashing into dikes, and breaking among coarse rushes: no man cared where he went. As we came nearer to the shouting, it became more and more apparent that it was made by more than one voice. Sometimes, it seemed to stop altogether, and then the soldiers stopped. When it broke out again, the soldiers made for it at a greater rate than ever, and we after them. After a while, we had so run it down, that we could hear one voice calling “Murder!” and another voice, “Convicts! Runaways! Guard! This way for the runaway convicts!” Then both voices would seem to be stifled in a struggle, and then would break out again. And when it had come to this, the soldiers ran like deer, and Joe too.The sergeant ran in first, when we had run the noise quite down, and two of his men ran in close upon him. Their pieces were cocked and levelled when we all ran in.“Here are both men!” panted the sergeant, struggling at the bottom of a ditch. “Surrender, you two! and confound you for two wild beasts! Come asunder!”Water was splashing, and mud was flying, and oaths were being sworn, and blows were being struck, when some more men went down into the ditch to help the sergeant, and dragged out, separately, my convict and the other one. Both were bleeding and panting and execrating and struggling; but of course I knew them both directly.“Mind!” said my convict, wiping blood from his face with his ragged sleeves, and shaking torn hair from his fingers: “I took him! I give him up to you! Mind that!”“It's not much to be particular about,” said the sergeant; “it'll do you small good, my man, being in the same plight yourself. Handcuffs there!”“I don't expect it to do me any good. I don't want it to do me more good than it does now,” said my convict, with a greedy laugh. “I took him. He knows it. That's enough for me.”The other convict was livid to look at, and, in addition to the old bruised left side of his face, seemed to be bruised and torn all over. He could not so much as get his breath to speak, until they were both separately handcuffed, but leaned upon a soldier to keep himself from falling.“Take notice, guard⁠—he tried to murder me,” were his first words.“Tried to murder him?” said my convict, disdainfully. “Try, and not do it? I took him, and giv' him up; that's what I done. I not only prevented him getting off the marshes, but I dragged him here⁠—dragged him this far on his way back. He's a gentleman, if you please, this villain. Now, the hulks has got its gentleman again, through me. Murder him? Worth my while, too, to murder him, when I could do worse and drag him back!”The other one still gasped, “He tried⁠—he tried-to⁠—murder me. Bear⁠—bear witness.”“Lookee here!” said my convict to the sergeant. “Single-handed I got clear of the prison-ship; I made a dash and I done it. I could ha' got clear of these death-cold flats likewise⁠—look at my leg: you won't find much iron on it⁠—if I hadn't made the discovery that he was here. Let him go free? Let him profit by the means as I found out? Let him make a tool of me afresh and again? Once more? No, no, no. If I had died at the bottom there,” and he made an emphatic swing at the ditch with his manacled hands, “I'd have held to him with that grip, that you should have been safe to find him in my hold.”The other fugitive, who was evidently in extreme horror of his companion, repeated, “He tried to murder me. I should have been a dead man if you had not come up.”“He lies!” said my convict, with fierce energy. “He's a liar born, and he'll die a liar. Look at his face; ain't it written there? Let him turn those eyes of his on me. I defy him to do it.”The other, with an effort at a scornful smile, which could not, however, collect the nervous working of his mouth into any set expression, looked at the soldiers, and looked about at the marshes and at the sky, but certainly did not look at the speaker.“Do you see him?” pursued my convict. “Do you see what a villain he is? Do you see those grovelling and wandering eyes? That's how he looked when we were tried together. He never looked at me.”The other, always working and working his dry lips and turning his eyes restlessly about him far and near, did at last turn them for a moment on the speaker, with the words, “You are not much to look at,” and with a half-taunting glance at the bound hands. At that point, my convict became so frantically exasperated, that he would have rushed upon him but for the interposition of the soldiers. “Didn't I tell you,” said the other convict then, “that he would murder me, if he could?” And anyone could see that he shook with fear, and that there broke out upon his lips curious white flakes, like thin snow.“Enough of this parley,” said the sergeant. “Light those torches.”As one of the soldiers, who carried a basket in lieu of a gun, went down on his knee to open it, my convict looked round him for the first time, and saw me. I had alighted from Joe's back on the brink of the ditch when we came up, and had not moved since. I looked at him eagerly when he looked at me, and slightly moved my hands and shook my head. I had been waiting for him to see me that I might try to assure him of my innocence. It was not at all expressed to me that he even comprehended my intention, for he gave me a look that I did not understand, and it all passed in a moment. But if he had looked at me for an hour or for a day, I could not have remembered his face ever afterwards, as having been more attentive.The soldier with the basket soon got a light, and lighted three or four torches, and took one himself and distributed the others. It had been almost dark before, but now it seemed quite dark, and soon afterwards very dark. Before we departed from that spot, four soldiers standing in a ring, fired twice into the air. Presently we saw other torches kindled at some distance behind us, and others on the marshes on the opposite bank of the river. “All right,” said the sergeant. “March.”We had not gone far when three cannon were fired ahead of us with a sound that seemed to burst something inside my ear. “You are expected on board,” said the sergeant to my convict; “they know you are coming. Don't straggle, my man. Close up here.”The two were kept apart, and each walked surrounded by a separate guard. I had hold of Joe's hand now, and Joe carried one of the torches. Mr. Wopsle had been for going back, but Joe was resolved to see it out, so we went on with the party. There was a reasonably good path now, mostly on the edge of the river, with a divergence here and there where a dike came, with a miniature windmill on it and a muddy sluice-gate. When I looked round, I could see the other lights coming in after us. The torches we carried dropped great blotches of fire upon the track, and I could see those, too, lying smoking and flaring. I could see nothing else but black darkness. Our lights warmed the air about us with their pitchy blaze, and the two prisoners seemed rather to like that, as they limped along in the midst of the muskets. We could not go fast, because of their lameness; and they were so spent, that two or three times we had to halt while they rested.After an hour or so of this travelling, we came to a rough wooden hut and a landing-place. There was a guard in the hut, and they challenged, and the sergeant answered. Then, we went into the hut, where there was a smell of tobacco and whitewash, and a bright fire, and a lamp, and a stand of muskets, and a drum, and a low wooden bedstead, like an overgrown mangle without the machinery, capable of holding about a dozen soldiers all at once. Three or four soldiers who lay upon it in their greatcoats were not much interested in us, but just lifted their heads and took a sleepy stare, and then lay down again. The sergeant made some kind of report, and some entry in a book, and then the convict whom I call the other convict was drafted off with his guard, to go on board first.My convict never looked at me, except that once. While we stood in the hut, he stood before the fire looking thoughtfully at it, or putting up his feet by turns upon the hob, and looking thoughtfully at them as if he pitied them for their recent adventures. Suddenly, he turned to the sergeant, and remarked⁠—“I wish to say something respecting this escape. It may prevent some persons laying under suspicion alonger me.”“You can say what you like,” returned the sergeant, standing coolly looking at him with his arms folded, “but you have no call to say it here. You'll have opportunity enough to say about it, and hear about it, before it's done with, you know.”“I know, but this is another pint, a separate matter. A man can't starve; at least I can't. I took some wittles, up at the willage over yonder⁠—where the church stands a'most out on the marshes.”“You mean stole,” said the sergeant.“And I'll tell you where from. From the blacksmith's.”“Halloa!” said the sergeant, staring at Joe.“Halloa, Pip!” said Joe, staring at me.“It was some broken wittles⁠—that's what it was⁠—and a dram of liquor, and a pie.”“Have you happened to miss such an article as a pie, blacksmith?” asked the sergeant, confidentially.“My wife did, at the very moment when you came in. Don't you know, Pip?”“So,” said my convict, turning his eyes on Joe in a moody manner, and without the least glance at me⁠—“so you're the blacksmith, are you? Than I'm sorry to say, I've eat your pie.”“God knows you're welcome to it⁠—so far as it was ever mine,” returned Joe, with a saving remembrance of Mrs. Joe. “We don't know what you have done, but we wouldn't have you starved to death for it, poor miserable fellow-creatur.⁠—Would us, Pip?”The something that I had noticed before, clicked in the man's throat again, and he turned his back. The boat had returned, and his guard were ready, so we followed him to the landing-place made of rough stakes and stones, and saw him put into the boat, which was rowed by a crew of convicts like himself. No one seemed surprised to see him, or interested in seeing him, or glad to see him, or sorry to see him, or spoke a word, except that somebody in the boat growled as if to dogs, “Give way, you!” which was the signal for the dip of the oars. By the light of the torches, we saw the black Hulk lying out a little way from the mud of the shore, like a wicked Noah's ark. Cribbed and barred and moored by massive rusty chains, the prison-ship seemed in my young eyes to be ironed like the prisoners. We saw the boat go alongside, and we saw him taken up the side and disappear. Then, the ends of the torches were flung hissing into the water, and went out, as if it were all over with him. This is a public episode. 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When I reached home, my sister was very curious to know all about Miss Havisham's, and asked a number of questions. And I soon found myself getting heavily bumped from behind in the nape of the neck and the small of the back, and having my face ignominiously shoved against the kitchen wall, because I did not answer those questions at sufficient length.If a dread of not being understood be hidden in the breasts of other young people to anything like the extent to which it used to be hidden in mine⁠—which I consider probable, as I have no particular reason to suspect myself of having been a monstrosity⁠—it is the key to many reservations. I felt convinced that if I described Miss Havisham's as my eyes had seen it, I should not be understood. Not only that, but I felt convinced that Miss Havisham too would not be understood; and although she was perfectly incomprehensible to me, I entertained an impression that there would be something coarse and treacherous in my dragging her as she really was (to say nothing of Miss Estella) before the contemplation of Mrs. Joe. Consequently, I said as little as I could, and had my face shoved against the kitchen wall.The worst of it was that that bullying old Pumblechook, preyed upon by a devouring curiosity to be informed of all I had seen and heard, came gaping over in his chaise-cart at teatime, to have the details divulged to him. And the mere sight of the torment, with his fishy eyes and mouth open, his sandy hair inquisitively on end, and his waistcoat heaving with windy arithmetic, made me vicious in my reticence.“Well, boy,” Uncle Pumblechook began, as soon as he was seated in the chair of honor by the fire. “How did you get on up town?”I answered, “Pretty well, sir,” and my sister shook her fist at me.“Pretty well?” Mr. Pumblechook repeated. “Pretty well is no answer. Tell us what you mean by pretty well, boy?”Whitewash on the forehead hardens the brain into a state of obstinacy perhaps. Anyhow, with whitewash from the wall on my forehead, my obstinacy was adamantine. I reflected for some time, and then answered as if I had discovered a new idea, “I mean pretty well.”My sister with an exclamation of impatience was going to fly at me⁠—I had no shadow of defence, for Joe was busy in the forge⁠—when Mr. Pumblechook interposed with “No! Don't lose your temper. Leave this lad to me, ma'am; leave this lad to me.” Mr. Pumblechook then turned me towards him, as if he were going to cut my hair, and said⁠—“First (to get our thoughts in order): Forty-three pence?”I calculated the consequences of replying “Four Hundred Pound,” and finding them against me, went as near the answer as I could⁠—which was somewhere about eightpence off. Mr. Pumblechook then put me through my pence-table from “twelve pence make one shilling,” up to “forty pence make three and fourpence,” and then triumphantly demanded, as if he had done for me, “Now! How much is forty-three pence?” To which I replied, after a long interval of reflection, “I don't know.” And I was so aggravated that I almost doubt if I did know.Mr. Pumblechook worked his head like a screw to screw it out of me, and said, “Is forty-three pence seven and sixpence three fardens, for instance?”“Yes!” said I. And although my sister instantly boxed my ears, it was highly gratifying to me to see that the answer spoilt his joke, and brought him to a dead stop.“Boy! What like is Miss Havisham?” Mr. Pumblechook began again when he had recovered; folding his arms tight on his chest and applying the screw.“Very tall and dark,” I told him.“Is she, uncle?” asked my sister.Mr. Pumblechook winked assent; from which I at once inferred that he had never seen Miss Havisham, for she was nothing of the kind.“Good!” said Mr. Pumblechook conceitedly. (“This is the way to have him! We are beginning to hold our own, I think, Mum?”)“I am sure, uncle,” returned Mrs. Joe, “I wish you had him always; you know so well how to deal with him.”“Now, boy! What was she a doing of, when you went in today?” asked Mr. Pumblechook.“She was sitting,” I answered, “in a black velvet coach.”Mr. Pumblechook and Mrs. Joe stared at one another⁠—as they well might⁠—and both repeated, “In a black velvet coach?”“Yes,” said I. “And Miss Estella⁠—that's her niece, I think⁠—handed her in cake and wine at the coach-window, on a gold plate. And we all had cake and wine on gold plates. And I got up behind the coach to eat mine, because she told me to.”“Was anybody else there?” asked Mr. Pumblechook.“Four dogs,” said I.“Large or small?”“Immense,” said I. “And they fought for veal-cutlets out of a silver basket.”Mr. Pumblechook and Mrs. Joe stared at one another again, in utter amazement. I was perfectly frantic⁠—a reckless witness under the torture⁠—and would have told them anything.“Where was this coach, in the name of gracious?” asked my sister.“In Miss Havisham's room.” They stared again. “But there weren't any horses to it.” I added this saving clause, in the moment of rejecting four richly caparisoned coursers which I had had wild thoughts of harnessing.“Can this be possible, uncle?” asked Mrs. Joe. “What can the boy mean?”“I'll tell you, Mum,” said Mr. Pumblechook. “My opinion is, it's a sedan-chair. She's flighty, you know⁠—very flighty⁠—quite flighty enough to pass her days in a sedan-chair.”“Did you ever see her in it, uncle?” asked Mrs. Joe.“How could I,” he returned, forced to the admission, “when I never see her in my life? Never clapped eyes upon her!”“Goodness, uncle! And yet you have spoken to her?”“Why, don't you know,” said Mr. Pumblechook, testily, “that when I have been there, I have been took up to the outside of her door, and the door has stood ajar, and she has spoke to me that way. Don't say you don't know that, Mum. Howsever, the boy went there to play. What did you play at, boy?”“We played with flags,” I said. (I beg to observe that I think of myself with amazement, when I recall the lies I told on this occasion.)“Flags!” echoed my sister.“Yes,” said I. “Estella waved a blue flag, and I waved a red one, and Miss Havisham waved one sprinkled all over with little gold stars, out at the coach-window. And then we all waved our swords and hurrahed.”“Swords!” repeated my sister. “Where did you get swords from?”“Out of a cupboard,” said I. “And I saw pistols in it⁠—and jam⁠—and pills. And there was no daylight in the room, but it was all lighted up with candles.”“That's true, Mum,” said Mr. Pumblechook, with a grave nod. “That's the state of the case, for that much I've seen myself.” And then they both stared at me, and I, with an obtrusive show of artlessness on my countenance, stared at them, and plaited the right leg of my trousers with my right hand.If they had asked me any more questions, I should undoubtedly have betrayed myself, for I was even then on the point of mentioning that there was a balloon in the yard, and should have hazarded the statement but for my invention being divided between that phenomenon and a bear in the brewery. They were so much occupied, however, in discussing the marvels I had already presented for their consideration, that I escaped. The subject still held them when Joe came in from his work to have a cup of tea. To whom my sister, more for the relief of her own mind than for the gratification of his, related my pretended experiences.Now, when I saw Joe open his blue eyes and roll them all round the kitchen in helpless amazement, I was overtaken by penitence; but only as regarded him⁠—not in the least as regarded the other two. Towards Joe, and Joe only, I considered myself a young monster, while they sat debating what results would come to me from Miss Havisham's acquaintance and favor. They had no doubt that Miss Havisham would “do something” for me; their doubts related to the form that something would take. My sister stood out for “property.” Mr. Pumblechook was in favor of a handsome premium for binding me apprentice to some genteel trade⁠—say, the corn and seed trade, for instance. Joe fell into the deepest disgrace with both, for offering the bright suggestion that I might only be presented with one of the dogs who had fought for the veal-cutlets. “If a fool's head can't express better opinions than that,” said my sister, “and you have got any work to do, you had better go and do it.” So he went.After Mr. Pumblechook had driven off, and when my sister was washing up, I stole into the forge to Joe, and remained by him until he had done for the night. Then I said, “Before the fire goes out, Joe, I should like to tell you something.”“Should you, Pip?” said Joe, drawing his shoeing-stool near the forge. “Then tell us. What is it, Pip?”“Joe,” said I, taking hold of his rolled-up shirt sleeve, and twisting it between my finger and thumb, “you remember all that about Miss Havisham's?”“Remember?” said Joe. “I believe you! Wonderful!”“It's a terrible thing, Joe; it ain't true.”“What are you telling of, Pip?” cried Joe, falling back in the greatest amazement. “You don't mean to say it's⁠—”“Yes I do; it's lies, Joe.”“But not all of it? Why sure you don't mean to say, Pip, that there was no black welwet co⁠—eh?” For, I stood shaking my head. “But at least there was dogs, Pip? Come, Pip,” said Joe, persuasively, “if there warn't no weal-cutlets, at least there was dogs?”“No, Joe.”“A dog?” said Joe. “A puppy? Come?”“No, Joe, there was nothing at all of the kind.”As I fixed my eyes hopelessly on Joe, Joe contemplated me in dismay. “Pip, old chap! This won't do, old fellow! I say! Where do you expect to go to?”“It's terrible, Joe; ain't it?”“Terrible?” cried Joe. “Awful! What possessed you?”“I don't know what possessed me, Joe,” I replied, letting his shirt sleeve go, and sitting down in the ashes at his feet, hanging my head; “but I wish you hadn't taught me to call Knaves at cards Jacks; and I wish my boots weren't so thick nor my hands so coarse.”And then I told Joe that I felt very miserable, and that I hadn't been able to explain myself to Mrs. Joe and Pumblechook, who were so rude to me, and that there had been a beautiful young lady at Miss Havisham's who was dreadfully proud, and that she had said I was common, and that I knew I was common, and that I wished I was not common, and that the lies had come of it somehow, though I didn't know how.This was a case of metaphysics, at least as difficult for Joe to deal with as for me. But Joe took the case altogether out of the region of metaphysics, and by that means vanquished it.“There's one thing you may be sure of, Pip,” said Joe, after some rumination, “namely, that lies is lies. Howsever they come, they didn't ought to come, and they come from the father of lies, and work round to the same. Don't you tell no more of 'em, Pip. That ain't the way to get out of being common, old chap. And as to being common, I don't make it out at all clear. You are oncommon in some things. You're oncommon small. Likewise you're a oncommon scholar.”“No, I am ignorant and backward, Joe.”“Why, see what a letter you wrote last night! Wrote in print even! I've seen letters⁠—Ah! and from gentlefolks!⁠—that I'll swear weren't wrote in print,” said Joe.“I have learnt next to nothing, Joe. You think much of me. It's only that.”“Well, Pip,” said Joe, “be it so or be it son't, you must be a common scholar afore you can be a oncommon one, I should hope! The king upon his throne, with his crown upon his ed, can't sit and write his acts of Parliament in print, without having begun, when he were a unpromoted Prince, with the alphabet.⁠—Ah!” added Joe, with a shake of the head that was full of meaning, “and begun at A too, and worked his way to Z. And I know what that is to do, though I can't say I've exactly done it.”There was some hope in this piece of wisdom, and it rather encouraged me.“Whether common ones as to callings and earnings,” pursued Joe, reflectively, “mightn't be the better of continuing for to keep company with common ones, instead of going out to play with oncommon ones⁠—which reminds me to hope that there were a flag, perhaps?”“No, Joe.”“(I'm sorry there weren't a flag, Pip). Whether that might be or mightn't be, is a thing as can't be looked into now, without putting your sister on the rampage; and that's a thing not to be thought of as being done intentional. Lookee here, Pip, at what is said to you by a true friend. Which this to you the true friend say. If you can't get to be oncommon through going straight, you'll never get to do it through going crooked. So don't tell no more on 'em, Pip, and live well and die happy.”“You are not angry with me, Joe?”“No, old chap. But bearing in mind that them were which I meantersay of a stunning and outdacious sort⁠—alluding to them which bordered on weal-cutlets and dog-fighting⁠—a sincere well-wisher would adwise, Pip, their being dropped into your meditations, when you go upstairs to bed. That's all, old chap, and don't never do it no more.”When I got up to my little room and said my prayers, I did not forget Joe's recommendation, and yet my young mind was in that disturbed and unthankful state, that I thought long after I laid me down, how common Estella would consider Joe, a mere blacksmith; how thick his boots, and how coarse his hands. I thought how Joe and my sister were then sitting in the kitchen, and how I had come up to bed from the kitchen, and how Miss Havisham and Estella never sat in a kitchen, but were far above the level of such common doings. I fell asleep recalling what I “used to do” when I was at Miss Havisham's; as though I had been there weeks or months, instead of hours; and as though it were quite an old subject of remembrance, instead of one that had arisen only that day.That was a memorable day to me, for it made great changes in me. But it is the same with any life. Imagine one selected day struck out of it, and think how different its course would have been. Pause you who read this, and think for a moment of the long chain of iron or gold, of thorns or flowers, that would never have bound you, but for the formation of the first link on one memorable day. This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit greatexpectations.substack.com

Sell to people like they're your friends. How to stand up for yourself with dropouts and haters. How to handle covert hostility in business. Examples of text conversations with students / clients, drop-outs, dabblers and lookee lous, and haters.   Follow our show for content and announcements!  https://geni.us/LfLAcqE

Esta semana en Colin Peters presents.. tenemos el debut de un hombre que admiro tanto por sus camisetas como por su música: Mediocre Dj! Nos hablará de sus inicios, (de su apodo tan particular) y de la actualidad, además de ofrecernos las novedades de Caribou, Jungle y Melenas. En una sesión de electronica, Italo disco y disco house de lo más bailonga. This week on Colin Peters presents... we have the debut of a man that I admire as much for his old skool t-shirts as for his music: Mediocre DJ! We chat about his career and the places he plays, recommended newies from Caribou, Melenas & Jungle, plus the premiere of his new mix, mashing together electronica, italo disco and disco house classics. 1. Jungle- talk about you 2. Melenas- osa polar 3. Caribou- you can do it 4. La femme- it's time to wake up (2023) 5. Fontaines D.C - a hero's death (soulwax remix) 6. Elia y Elizabeth - alegría (yuksek remix) 7. Simple symmetry- Danza sueno 8. Cheaps- moliendo café 9. Magazine 60- don quichotte (no están aquí) 10. Califato 3/4- buleriâ del aire acondiçionao 11. Kamizi-guerra (iñigo voltier & dan solo remix) 12. Ampersounds ft rufus wainwright- technopera 13. Low island- feel you again (juan maclean remix) 14. Yelle - karaté 15. Moloko - sing it back (mousse t's feel love remix) 16. Soulwax -NY lipps (kawazaki dub) 17. Disclosure - in my arms 18. Lookee - queen for the day 19. Todd terje- baby do you wanna bump (daniel maloso remix) 20. French 79 - hold on 21. Polo & Pan - ani kuni 22. Ed is dead - Endlessly 23. DBFC- autonomic 24. Tobias bernstrup- 27 (laser mix) 25. Zakir- la roulette 26. M.I.A. - jimmy

Featuring tracks from HP Vince, Lookee, Purple Disco Machine, Simon Harris, Yotto and more...

For the survival of our democracy, and for our sanity, we must work harder to bring together all people while standing up to hate and divisiveness. Thinking about us as One Race is the only way humanity is going to survive all the things our world, our big blue beautiful world, has and will continue to give us. | Tracks by David Morales ft. Alex Uhlmann, Lookee & Stefane, Block & Crown, Ultra Nate, Crazibiza, Jessie Ware, Martina Budde, Dennis Cruz, Inaya Day, Housefeller ft. Cheryl Porter AND KC & The Sunshine Band. Recorded live @ BetBoyz Studio NYC

Lookee yonder, it's a shinin' new episode! Join Paula and Josh as they discover their own collectible rushes, remember very dirty codenames, and root for their favorite sports team, the Baltimore Edgar Allen Poes.   Have your own Earnest Moment to submit? Let us know at @BeingEarnestPod on all social media, or at BeingEarnestPod@gmail.com!    ------------------------ Logo by Ryan Cruise: https://www.instagram.com/rbcruiser Theme Song by Dylan Doetch: https://www.twitter.com/dylandoetch

Lookee here! It's baby's first Oscar winner! The King's Speech producer Iain Canning and I had a super cute chat about his love for Tennessee Williams' masterpiece A Streetcar Named Desire and Wong Kar Wai's 1994 film Chungking Express. I mean... that's pretty fucking exciting, right? And I also waxed poetic about the differences between stage and screen acting. And you get to listen to it! When did your life become such a non-stop thrill-mobile?!?! Links: Iain Canning A Streetcar Named Desire Chungking Express The Day Shall Come Fleabag The Adam Buxton Podcast

НОВЫЙ МИКС ИЗ СЕРИИ "DISCOTEKA vol.51" ОТ НАШЕГО СОВМЕСТНОГО ПРОЕКТА С DJ ALEX KLAAYS ! КАЧАЕМ ,СЛУШАЕМ И ПОЛУЧАЕМ УДОВОЛЬСТВИЕ ! P.S. ТАК ЖЕ ПРОШУ ПОДДЕРЖАТЬ КОНКУРСНЫЕ РЕМИКСЫ : pdj.cc/fsN8P pdj.cc/fsP98 pdj.cc/fsMnr 01.Billie Eilish - Bad Guy (Amice Remix) 02.Arefiev - High Feelings (John Reyton Remix) 03.Sofi Tukker & ZHU - Mi Rumba (Mike Prado pres. MIJAST Remix) 04.Chemical Surf & Dubdisko - On The Floor (Original Mix) 05.Inna - Hot (Lavrushkin & Max Roven Remix) 06.Deep Purple - Smoke On The Water (Ship Wrek Edit) 07.Gala - Freed From Desire (G-Love & Igor Frank Remix) 08.Afrojack,Jewelz & Sparks feat. Emmalyn - Switch (Chico Rose Remix) 09.Morandi - Angels (Dmitriy Rs & DJ Cheeful Remix) 10.Lookee, Stefane - M.O.V.E. (Lookee Edit) 11.Steve Aoki & Alok - Do It Again (Binayz & S-Nike Remix) 12.Cookin' On 3 Burners Vs. Henri Purnell, Revelries - Force of Nature (Provi Extended Version) 13.Alternative Kasual - Drop The Pressure (90's Day Mix) 14.RADIØMATIK, Wolsh & Y'all - No Roots (Extended Mix) 15.Luca Debonaire & Kegyi - The Rhythm Of The Night (Original Mix) 16.Deni Knight - Classic Down (Original Mix) 17.Dash Groove & Low Voltage - Bassline (Original Mix) 18.Mike Ferullo - A Place To Stay (Original Mix) 19.Netta - Nana Banana (Amice Remix)

НОВЫЙ МИКС ИЗ СЕРИИ "DISCOTEKA vol.51" ОТ НАШЕГО СОВМЕСТНОГО ПРОЕКТА С DJ ALEX KLAAYS ! КАЧАЕМ ,СЛУШАЕМ И ПОЛУЧАЕМ УДОВОЛЬСТВИЕ ! P.S. ТАК ЖЕ ПРОШУ ПОДДЕРЖАТЬ КОНКУРСНЫЕ РЕМИКСЫ : pdj.cc/fsN8P pdj.cc/fsP98 pdj.cc/fsMnr 01.Billie Eilish - Bad Guy (Amice Remix) 02.Arefiev - High Feelings (John Reyton Remix) 03.Sofi Tukker & ZHU - Mi Rumba (Mike Prado pres. MIJAST Remix) 04.Chemical Surf & Dubdisko - On The Floor (Original Mix) 05.Inna - Hot (Lavrushkin & Max Roven Remix) 06.Deep Purple - Smoke On The Water (Ship Wrek Edit) 07.Gala - Freed From Desire (G-Love & Igor Frank Remix) 08.Afrojack,Jewelz & Sparks feat. Emmalyn - Switch (Chico Rose Remix) 09.Morandi - Angels (Dmitriy Rs & DJ Cheeful Remix) 10.Lookee, Stefane - M.O.V.E. (Lookee Edit) 11.Steve Aoki & Alok - Do It Again (Binayz & S-Nike Remix) 12.Cookin' On 3 Burners Vs. Henri Purnell, Revelries - Force of Nature (Provi Extended Version) 13.Alternative Kasual - Drop The Pressure (90's Day Mix) 14.RADIØMATIK, Wolsh & Y'all - No Roots (Extended Mix) 15.Luca Debonaire & Kegyi - The Rhythm Of The Night (Original Mix) 16.Deni Knight - Classic Down (Original Mix) 17.Dash Groove & Low Voltage - Bassline (Original Mix) 18.Mike Ferullo - A Place To Stay (Original Mix) 19.Netta - Nana Banana (Amice Remix)

[Cowboy Voice] Well, well, well… Lookee what we got here. If I didn’t know any better I’d say another episode of Mind Poison crept up in here. Remember what I told you last time? Now dance, pardner, dance! Oh, what’s that you say? In this episode those Mind Poison rascals talk about Prime Day, Jesse’s Slow Internet, and Mark’s New Street? Hmmm… [tobacco ping, where it hits that nasty metal jug] I reckon we’ll hear you out this time, Mind Poison. Hope you make it worth my while… Or else. [Player Piano, or horses clip-clopping, or whatever.] Drop us a line: https://mppodcast.com/say-hello or email us at: mindpoisonpodcast@gmail.com to suggest a rant or topic you want discussed. We love to hear from our listeners and write everyone back! Please don't forget to rate and review us if you enjoy the show! And make sure to subscribe through one of these platforms: iTunes, Apple Podcasts, Google Podcasts, Stitcher, Spotify, Tunein, Android, or by email. And please let your friends know about us if you enjoy the show. We appreciate the support! iTunes subscribe: https://itunes.apple.com/us/podcast/mind-poison-podcast/id1375818881?mt=2&ls=1 Stream on: https://mppodcast.com New episodes released weekly on Mondays! Keywords: Prime Day, Slow Internet, Mind Poison Podcast, Mind Poison, Worldwide Yikes, Trump Sucks, Ghost Adventurers, WWF, WWE, UFC, Comic Con, Comic Books, Marvel, Disney, Wrestling, Martial Arts, Movies, Books, Novels, TV, Television, Pop Culture, Reality TV, Joe Rogan, Paul Stamets, Your Moms House, Bobby Lee, Madden 20, Netflix, Meatless Burger, Heavy Metal, Music, Classic Music, History, Marketing, Amazon, Amazon Prime, Tigerbelly, The Joe Rogan Experience, We Hate Movies, My Favorite Murder, Politics, Minnesota, Colorado, California, United States, World, International, Worldwide, Acting, Actors, Actress, Brendan Fraser, Friends, Frasier, Cheers, All in the Family, Thanos, Spam Text, Spam Email, Junk Email Mind Poison Podcast

Bart tells Jim they need to find a way to get closer to Hedley Lamarr and his lieutenants. Jim decides their best course of action is to go in disguise. He hides Bart and then whistles to the two Klansman. When they turn around he says, "Hey, boys. Lookee what I got here?" At that point he pulls Bart out from behind the rock. Bart immediately asks, "Hey, where are the white women at?" This makes the Klansman chase the two behind the rock where the are pummeled by Bart and Jim. They don the Klan robes and get in line. As they get to the front, Hedley asks their qualifications. Bart says rustling cattle through the Vatican. As he goes to sign, The Waco Kid realizes their mistake. He grabs Bart's hand and pretends it's dirty from weekly cross-burnings. Our guests today are the brother and sister podcasting team of Tyler and Chandra Boudreau. They are behind the movies by minutes podcast The Fantastic Mr. Fox Minute. Both of them are pursuing their collegiate degrees and were great to have on the show. Thank you so much for tuning into today's episode. Come back tomorrow for another exciting episode of the movie, Blazing Saddles. In the meantime, don't forget to give us a rating and leave us a comment on your pod-catcher of choice. You can also follow us on Facebook, where we have a private listener's group, and we are on Twitter and Instagram. To learn more about us, our guests or to look through a list of all of our previous episodes, feel free to swing by our website. So bookmark, follow or like us everywhere and feel free to reach out to us anytime on this Wilder ride!

I wanna know what love is (Rodge Remix) – Foreigner Flames (Rodge Remix) – David Guetta & Sia Everytime We Touch (Rodge Remix) – Cascada Simply the best (Rodge Remix) – Tina Turner In dreams – Rodge ft Tim Morisson City of stars (Rodge Remix) - Emma Stone, Ryan Gosling Like a fool (Rodge Remix) – Robin Gibb Your loving arms – F. Physical Comme Toi (Rodge Remix) - Jean-Jacques Goldman Tuyo - Rodrigo Amarante When I’m gone (Rodge Remix) – Albert Hammond Your song (Rodge Remix) – Elton John Nights on Broadway (Rodge Remix) - Bee Gees All night long – Softmal & Nytron Mama Say Mama Sa – Lookee & Stefane Somebody to love – Kyrill & Redford Let the sun shine – Milk & Sugar No Cry (Rodge Twist) – Jimmy Sax Ebony & Ivory – Rodge Unreleased Track Magic - Tim3bomb ft Tim Schou Tough love (Rodge Remix) – Avicii ft Agnes, Vargas & Lagola When I was your man (Rodge Remix) – Bruno Mars Words don’t come easy (Rodge Remix) – F.R David You say (Rodge Remix) – Lauren Daigle Every Breath You Take (Rodge Remix) - The Police Glory of love (Rodge Remix) – Peter Cetera Lemon Tree (Rodge Remix) – Fool’s Garden Shallow (Rodge Remix) – Bradley cooper & Lady Gaga

Dancing hits with some interesting remixes from Lookee, Gryffin (With Zohara), Calvin Harris & Rag'n'bone, Timmy Trumpet, Kastra, Your Call, TARABAROVA, Kroxx Dealer, Dirty Dancing, Sigala + Ella Eyre + Meghan Trainor, Mark Ronson, Secondcity, Secondcity, The Prince Karma, NOTD & Felix Jaehn, Nora En Pure + Ashibah. Enjoy! — Website: https://djhetman.com — iTunes: https://bit.ly/hetmandj — Youtube: https://bit.ly/djhetman

1. Maurizio Basilotta, DiscoVer. - Gypsy Woman (Original Mix) [Which Bottle?] 2. Block & Crown - Feel Galactic (Original Mix) [Next-Gen-Records] 3. Andrea Laddo, The Cube Guys - SassoBasso (The Cube Guys Remix) [Cube Recordings] 4. Sunnery James & Ryan Marciano, Marc Volt - In My Mind (Extended Mix) [SONO Music] 5. Dean Mason - Cheq Diss (Extended Mix) [HoTL Records] 6. Cat Dealers, Beowülf, Jude & Frank - Infinity (Jude & Frank (Extended Remix) [Armada Music] 7. Sharapov, Nott & Alvis - Better With You (Original Mix) [RollRock Records] 8. Lookee, Stefane - Somebody Watching Me [PornoStar Records] 9. Crazibiza - Yeahhh (Lokee & Stefane Remix) [PornoStar Records] 10. Luca Debonaire - The Thrill Of The Beats (Original Mix) [Next-Gen-Records] 11. Milk & Sugar - Let The Sun Shine (Milk & Sugar Remix) [Milk & Sugar] 12. Richard Grey, Lissat - Jump (Original Mix) [Tactical Records] 13. Block & Crown - For The Homies (Original Mix) [Next-Gen-Records] 14. Charles J - Riders On The Storm (Original Mix) [Pornostar Comps] 15. Foo Funkers, Jonk & Spook - What U Wanna Do (Original Mix) [Cruise Music] 16. Gary Caos, Wlady, T.N.Y. - Without This (Original Club Mix) [Casa Rossa] 17. Crazibiza, Robert Feelgood, Block & Crown - Dance & Shout (Block & Crown & Robert Feelgood Remix) [PornoStar Records] www.djroyski.com www.patreon.com/royski www.mixcloud.com/djroyski www.facebook.com/djroyski www.twitter.com/djroyski

Lookee here. Them PAR boys, they ain't been playing much outsid'a Red Dead Redemption 2 the past couple weeks. So it's time to embrace it! Justin and special guest Zul Edwards set up camp, sit by the fire, roast some plump turkey meat and spit back and forth some of the most hilarious and wacky stories that have happened to them so far while playing Rockstar's ambitious and expansive Western. And remember: Yer all right, gurl. #podcast #videogames #videogamepodcast #gaming #gamingpodcast #parpodcast #pressarepeatedly #rockstargames #rdr2 #reddeadredemption2 #sony #ps4 #xboxone

This episode is hopefully more entertaining to listen to than it was to research. Katie loves both of these songs, despite not knowing that they were, in fact, two different songs. 95 South wrote it first, but Tag Team had the bigger hit. They are ode's to strip clubs, booties, and partying. The videos have plenty of booty equity, celebrity cameos, and maybe, just maybe, one of our former presidents hanging out at a house party. Katie uses a helpful Venn diagram and Brad can't keep anything straight. Lookee here, lookee here, lookee here...shaka laka shaka laka shaka laka... Links: (Via Brent from Home Video Hustle) Original Whoot (There It Is) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9quxoxoKj7I&feature=youtu.be One Mo' Gen https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0GasDLFmDHA&feature=youtu.be

Lookee here, we've got episode three of "Jerks Talk Games" with Chris Tankersley and Gary Hockin. Follow @jerkstalkgames on Twitter to keep up with announcements, and subscribe to our YouTube channel to watch episodes as soon as they come out. On this episode, we throw the old format out the window already and talk about the SimCity franchise, our favorite installments that are contained within, and we reminisce about the Roller Coaster Tycoon series. Gary also says some words about the new Duke Nukem game too. I think. I wasn't paying attention. Oh, and some Civilization. ALL GLORY TO ROME. Games Duke Nukem 3D: 20th Anniversary World Tour Civilization V Forza Horizon 3 SimCity SimCity 2000 SimTower Project Highrise Roller Coaster Tycoon: Deluxe Roller Coaster Tycoon 2: Triple Thrill Pack Roller Coaster Tycoon 3: Platinum! Parkitect Planet Coaster

Val Staples, Danielle Gelehrter and Nate Baertsch are back to discuss He-Man and She-Ra. In this episode they are joined by Eric Treadaway to answer your questions about Toy Fair 2014 reveals, Kowl and Lookee, Rio Blast, Club Etheria, Double Mischief (Double Trouble), Madame Razz & Broome, insert molding & ankles, reveals and changes, Snake Mountain boxart, Mythic Legions, Entrapta, Light Hope, the bet, Sweet Bee (helmet), Mini-Masters, and much more! Intro/Outro info: none Another fan contribution are episode wallpapers and backgrounds, created by Matt Tyree also know as Tyree on the forums. Matt is commercial illustrator who you can find out more about at www.tyreeonline.com Also, don't forget the Roast Gooble Dinner iPhone App, which is great for organizing and downloading current and past episodes. Click here to get yours today! And if you have a comment or a question, please call us at (310) 933-5993 or at our Skype account "roastgooble" and leave a voicemail (in Skype, please go to Call Phones and enter roastgooble as the phone number and dial in. Please do not add roastgooble to your contact list as we won't accept the request. Sorry!) We'll try to work your voicemail into the show, so please call! Otherwise, you can e-mail us at gooble (at) he-man (dot) org. One or more of the hosts will read your e-mail on the show. Please keep e-mails short and sweet! So pull up your chair and fill up your plate! It's time to chow down on a tasty serving of fandom here on He-Man.org's Roast Gooble Dinner! Recorded on March 6, 2014 Runtime: 1 hour, 55 minutes, 27 seconds

Jennie the Potter's (where you can get Briar Rose yarn and patterns!), a reminder about the new for issues with the CraftLit App (iPhone, iTouch, Droid), and still crowing about the for which my wee bitty socks grace the cover. Lookee! Please be sure to ask your LYS to stock the book. You SHOULD be able to see an Amazon widget right below this (unless you have some sort of ad-blocker as a Firefox add-on—working on a fix for that). It's one of the ways you can support CraftLit. By starting your Amazon shopping from this point, CraftLitwill receive a portion of the profit from Amazon. Pretty nifty. If you can't see the widget, let me know and let me know which system/browser you're on. Book talk begins around 10 minutes. Listen to 206 .

Just a few linky bits for you: my lovely, , the for issues with the CraftLit App (iPhone, iTouch, Droid), help to make America great again (giggle), and the of which my wee bitty socks grace the cover. Lookee! Please be sure to ask your LYS to stock the book. You SHOULD be able to see an Amazon widget right below this. It's one of the ways you can support CraftLit. By starting your Amazon shopping from this point, CraftLit will receive a portion of the profit from Amazon. Pretty nifty. If you can't see the widget, let me know and let me know which system/browser you're on. Book talk begins around 15 minutes. Listen to 205 .

Hello from a distinctly un-summery Cheshire Plain. It's a bumper one this time around! This episode I share some finished objects, give you a history lesson and subject you all to my ramblings and reminicences on livestock. On the needles/wheel: I've finished the Manos del Uruguay Clapotis in time for the Clap-o-tea party at UK Knit Camp. I've also taught myself how to navajo ply on the singles I spun from a hank of unidentified fibre (possibly BFL and tencel) I bought from DT Crafts at Wonderwool Wales. No photos here, I'm afraid, but details on Ravelry for the Clapotis and the handspun. I'm also having a blast spinning some Muppet batts from EverImprovingMe. Gorgeous!!! Something I really like: Open Country on BBC Radio 4, particularly using the iPlayer. The Fair Isle Kntting programme is here. Upcoming Events: UK Knit Camp, 9th-13th August and UK Ravelry Weekend, 13th-14th August, Stirling, Scotland; I Knit Weekender, 10th-11th September, London; Fibre Flurry, 30th October, King's Norton, Birmingham. The bulk of this episode is taken up with information about The Oxfordshire County and Thame Show. It's something I attended every year as a child and teenager, but haven't been sinc ei went into teachign in the mid-90s. So, ready for the photo fest that is my record of Thame Show? OK, don't say I didn't warn you. There's a lot of photos. Seriously. Heaps. First up, the patchwork class. The red certificate is for First prize, blue is Second, yellow is Third, white is Very Highly Commended. The first prize winner in the patchwork is the first piece completed by the entrant.Then it's the fibre classes. First knitting...   ... then baby and toddler knitting... ... then the single entry in the Crochet class. Then I wondered down the other end of the marquee to the vegetables. Later I went into the rabbit tent....   ... the pigeons.... ... and the caged birds. Onto the larger animals. This class appears to be for a South Devon bull, heifer and calf. Inside the tent were some beautiful livestock, including this Hereford heifer... and some Holsteins. Outside you can see some Jacob sheep in the pens on the left. Lookee! A livestock Judge, In a Bowler hat! A shot from the sheep judging ring. A Southdown with a fleecy face. Beautiful Alpaca! One of my favourite parts was the Sheep Show. Here's the lorry, with all nine sheep on show. Close up shots... Craig shearing his first ever Scottish Blackface. Some of the Sheep show participants. First Lenny the Lincoln Longwool... ...the Rupert the Rouge De L'Ouest from France... ... and finally Dougal the Scottish Blackface. Music: Rondopolska by Barry Philips, from the album Tråd, available from Magnatune. Feel free to leave a comment here or at http://www.yarnsfromtheplain.blogspot.com/, or email me at yarnsfromtheplain@googlemail.com. We have a Ravelry group here, so come on over to chat. You can find me on Ravelry as talesfromtheplain and on Twitter as talesfromplain (although I don't Tweet much!). Nic